


Summer Nights

by waitingtobelit



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingtobelit/pseuds/waitingtobelit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unless he has drunk enough so that his face glows as though covered in rouge, public, potentially embarrassing declarations of affection are never Marius’ thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble and it completely ran away from me. This is pretty much shameless fluff.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't anything to do with Les Miserables or the line quoted from the Jason Mraz song, "I'm Yours." This was written for purely recreational purposes only.

Unless he has drunk enough so that his face glows as though covered in rouge, public, potentially embarrassing declarations of affection are never Marius’ thing.  Tonight, emboldened after a day of hiking in the woods, his cheeks glow from the light of the fire and the two solo cups worth of Guinness currently racing through his veins so that his freckles practically burst from his face like stars. He brandishes a wide, almost ridiculous smile as the three other men gathered around the campfire do nothing to discourage his antics.

Among them, Joly had been the one to suggest the camping trip to begin with that very morning, faced with his first free weekend in months. The majority of their friends declined, mostly due to the spontaneity of the idea and work schedules of their own. Jehan had been the first to volunteer to accompany Joly, exclaiming over the wonders of nature and its conductivity to his writing. Courfeyrac informed Joly to keep an eye on Jehan, lest his romanticism overwhelm him completely so as to prevent him from returning to civilization. Yet, always an eager for an adventure with dear friends, he eagerly agreed to the trip as well, even as he ducked to avoid Jehan’s punch to his shoulder.

Though initially reluctant due to his rather unfortunate luck with the outdoors, (“You could give Bossuet a run for his money,” Courfeyrac observed after Marius had returned from the beach one day with a massive sunburn and both knees scraped almost beyond recognition), Marius had eventually caved, thanks to Courfeyrac’s rather marvelous powers of persuasion.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll hold your hand so you don’t get lost.”

“Stop calling me that, Courfeyrac.”

“Whatever you say, _dear_.”

“Ugh.”

“You’re so cute when you pout.”

“Stop it!”

“Not when you blush like that. Besides, how can you expect me to ignore such plump, pretty lips?”

“Mmph!” Marius had flailed as Courfeyrac tackled him to the ground, but eventually relented to the compelling argument provided by Courfeyrac’s own lips. (Damn him and his gifted tongue.)

Now, Marius can’t recall if whether Jehan gave him the guitar or if he picked it up from beside him on the opposing side of the crackling fire, but he cradles the instrument regardless, caught up in the cool of the August evening and the shared delight of his companions around him.

He sways on his feet as he moves around the fire, fingers strumming along to a nonsensical tune. He inspires giggles from an outright intoxicated Joly, leaning on the trunk of a nearby tree to keep himself upright while balancing a cup of Guinness in his other hand. Jehan, scribbling away in his notebook, smiles at him, the corners of his lips twitching as he tries not to burst into laughter outright. His grin widens when he comes to Courfeyrac, who grins back with incendiary mirth in his eyes. He sways on his seat with the same buzz as Marius while stuffing a carefully constructed s’more into his mouth.

Marius pauses to sway in place, basking in the glow of the fire and the way his limbs all but hang from his body, for once liberated from the tension that typically defines his life as a law student. He focuses only on the man with the mussed curls and messy smile sitting before him. He doesn’t even register Jehan’s eyeroll or Joly sloppily snapping pictures with his phone. Courfeyrac smiles at him as though they are alone, dark eyes dancing with the light of the fire so that Marius’ stomach trips over itself the way Marius usually does during meetings.

He loves Courfeyrac; he hasn’t given voice to this yet in spite of its truth. His heart starts fluttering the longer Courfeyrac holds his gaze; his face warms even more. He keeps meaning to tell him, yet he can never find the right way to phrase the desired words. Marius, from a childhood spent in the company of his grandfather, always struggles to distinguish his feelings from the doubts that worm further into his thoughts the longer he dwells on them. Perhaps Courfeyrac would think him too forward too soon. Perhaps Courfeyrac would think him too sentimental. Perhaps Courfeyrac does not love him in the same way.

“Marius, are you alright?” Courfeyrac’s gentle voice disrupts him, alerting him to the obvious weight of his heart upon his sleeve and causing him to further blush, an impressive accomplishment considering the sheer amount of red already spread across his face.

_I love you. I adore you,_ he yearns to say.  Instead, he assures Courfeyrac with a quick smile before lowering his gaze to the twigs on the ground and busying his fingers with his nonsensical song once again. He misses the frown that diminishes the glow in Courfeyrac’s gaze; Courfeyrac’s quiet sigh falls unheard among the twanging of the guitar as he walks away.

Marius meanders around the fire, weaving between the two tents they brought with them as the memory of Courfeyrac’s lips press down on him from the afternoon and all of his buried emotions pile upon the aches in his chest. He strums with more ferocity the more he attempts to replace the weight of Courfeyrac’s hands with the guitar in his grasp. He snaps a branch beneath his feet as he walks along the edge of the wood and tries not to dwell on Courfeyrac’s smile.

“Marius, play us a song!”

He lifts his head to find Jehan almost glaring at him, resembling a righteous woodland fairy with the leaves and twigs in his long, auburn hair and the exasperation in his typically reserved countenance. Yet his request is as soft as the embers of their camp fire. Marius finds himself smiling in spite of himself.

“Yes, please Marius! It’s too quiet!” Joly, still clutching on to his tree trunk, waves his cup wildly as he speaks. “We need some entertainment!”

Courfeyrac says nothing but stares at him, face cast in a slightly hurt, expression. Marius straightens suddenly as though pulled by puppet strings. Inspiration glances against him like moonlight; the glow of it sinks into his skin like revelation.

“Well, if you insist.” He smiles as he makes his way back to the group, a little more sober than before yet still buzzed enough to have little doubt as to what he is about to do. In his head, the world makes perfect sense just as he is poised to make a fool of himself. The unsteady beating of his heart permeates throughout his whole being as he moves forward.  

Jehan puts down his notebook so he can sit up and hug his knees. Joly takes another sip from his drink before shakily readying his camera, still laughing, albeit slightly more subdued. Courfeyrac keeps his hands by his side as he quirks an eyebrow in Marius’ general direction. Marius inhales deeply, turning to the ground briefly before lifting his gaze back to Courfeyrac.

He stumbles over the first few chords of “I’m Yours,” fingers trembling against the guitar. Yet, while not the most proficient guitar player, Marius still knows his way around the instrument, and manages to quell his shaking before the opening lyrics. Joly whoops just as Marius finds his stride.

“ _Well you done done me and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted…”_

He starts off at Jehan’s side, yet he keeps his gaze on Courfeyrac while he sings. He is a bundle of knots on the inside, nerves tangling with the remnants of his drinks as he slowly walks towards the subject of his song. His chest constricts and he prays desperately not to fall into the fire.

Courfeyrac remains in his seat, motionless and seemingly unchanged except for the faint red creeping up his cheeks. Marius tells himself it’s from the heat of the fire until he stops directly in front of Courfeyrac. The red of his face burns bright against the night and the dark curls of his hair. Marius grins as he begins to sing louder, uncaring as to who might hear him in the moment. He has Courfeyrac’s attention, and it’s all that matters.

Joly films him and he never notices. Jehan fully smiles yet he does not see. He inches closer to Courfeyrac until he practically stands on the tips of his toes, singing down directly to him. Courfeyrac maintains a neutral expression except for the flush covering his cheeks, a blush almost as bright as Marius’ own.

Marius feels the lyrics as they brush against the roof of his mouth like butterfly wings, soaring into the night as the song begins to wind down. He sways on his feet, helpless to the hopeless grin plastered on his face as the song comes to an end.

Joly and Jehan both burst into applause as he removes the strap of the guitar from his shoulder and places the instrument to the right of Courfeyrac, a safe distance from the fire. Marius tries not to twitch as Courfeyrac remains still in his seat, one hand now cradling his chin in contemplation. 

Silence, with the exception of Joly’s giggling, falls over them, reawakening every doubt within Marius. Of course it was too much; Courfeyrac probably didn’t feel as strongly as he did. What made him think singing his feelings was a good idea? _An overabundance of musicals_ , his inner voice, resembling Grantaire almost exactly, reminds him as he starts to fidget, gaze falling to the ground yet again.

Hands cradling the sides of his face pull him up just in time for Courfeyrac’s lips to come crashing down against his own. Marius stumbles, flailing, before Courfeyrac catches him, wrapping his arms tight around his waist and pulling him into his chest.

“I love you too.” He whispers against Marius’ lips as he pulls back, grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Marius thinks he might just float away, so he attaches his lips to Courfeyrac’s once more to keep himself anchored.

They spin and they grasp at each other, Courfeyrac deepening the kiss as Marius tangles his hands in his hair. Marius whimpers as Courfeyrac groans. They stumble over their own feet trying to avoid the fire. Joly cheers as they almost fall into Jehan, who pushes them away good-naturedly.

“I suppose this means the two of you will become even more obnoxious now?” Jehan says just as Joly falls off his stump and faceplants into the dirt. Jehan rushes over to him as Courfeyrac spins them so that Marius’ back rests against his chest.

“Whatever gives you that idea? We are perfect angels!” Courfeyrac grins before nuzzling the back of Marius’ neck, causing the man in his arms to giggle and lean further into him.

“If your tent attracts any wild animals tonight, you guys are on your own.” Jehan sing-songs as he helps Joly into their shared tent.

Courfeyrac and Marius exchange knowing looks before bursting out into laughter. Courfeyrac kisses him then, forcing the night and all the things that go bump in it to dissipate entirely from Marius’ mind as the pair of them collapse onto the ground, a useless pile of limbs and trembling lips.


End file.
